Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,174

He was rewarded with a mouthful of choking sand, but his tenuous hold on consciousness firmed and new energy flooded his body. As the queen spat her outrage at her unseen assailant, he expanded his chest and flexed his arms outward, straining against the remaining talons. Then, in a sudden movement, he let all his air out in a whoosh and brought his arms together tightly over his head, making himself as narrow as possible. He fell through and plunged to the ground.

He struck the ground and rolled, pushing himself to his feet. He began to run on shaky legs away from the towering shape behind him. Trying to clear his head, he wondered if he could find one or both of his swords in this damnable sandstorm.

With an incoherent scream, the Nar’ath queen swept her remaining limbs wide in a cutting gesture, and the unnatural storm responded to her fury. A concussive blast rippled outward from her, scything throughout the chamber. The sheer force of it slammed into Amric’s back, lifting him from his feet and catapulting him through the air. He landed with jarring force, tumbling end over end before settling into a long skid. A sickly green glow beckoned ahead, and he gritted his teeth as he realized he was sliding toward the edge of one of the pools. The howling wind washed over him, pulling at his flesh and clothing with a savage hand, dragging him toward the toxic fluids. He dug in to slow his approach, using the edges of his boot soles and the naked flesh of his clawing hands. At last the force of the blast gave out, the wind subsided, and he came to rest within inches of the pool’s edge. The viscous green liquid wicked at the stone rim that contained it, as if hungry to reach his flesh. Amric let out the breath he had been holding captive, and spun to look back toward the Nar’ath queen.

The monster stood near the center of the vast chamber. The eerie storm she had raised was gone, its remnants still crawling away from her across the stone floor in wisps and tendrils. Several shapes were revealed as the last of the sand washed over them, emerging like water-worn rocks through receding floodwaters. Some were the hulking Nar’ath minions, thrown to the ground by the blast. One was the figure of a man in gray robes, kneeling low with his cloak flung over his head in a shielding gesture. Bellimar!

The Nar’ath queen was upon him in an instant, even before the raking wind had subsided. Massive claws swept the old man from his feet, drawing him into a crushing embrace. Bellimar thrashed about, prying at her talons, and a frenzied struggle ensued. He writhed and struck over and over, loosening her hold as she fought to tighten it. At last she used all three of her remaining claws to clamp his flailing limbs in place. Her head darted forward, and her outer jaws flared and snapped shut upon his head, locking him into place. She began to inhale––and then she recoiled with a shrill cry.

“What is this?” she hissed in disgust. “Your life force is powerful indeed, but it is tainted and unusable. You are a troublesome, worthless creature!”

Rising to her full height, she hunched forward and drove the vampire into the ground with such force that the very floor of the chamber shook. A ragged cry echoed through the cavernous hive, and Amric realized it was his own. He began to run at the Nar’ath queen.

She reared back, still holding Bellimar. His gray form was limp in her claws. Even as he sprinted toward her, Amric hoped that it was but a ruse on Bellimar’s part. The Nar’ath queen might have had the same suspicion, however, as she uncoiled in a sudden whipping motion to send him hurtling away through the air. Bellimar’s body flew like a stone from a sling to strike the wall of the chamber with a sharp crack, and then it slid to the ground to lie in a crumpled heap.

The Nar’ath queen was still facing in that direction, eyeing Bellimar’s motionless form as if expecting him to rise and attack her again, when Amric reached her. Leaping high, he vaulted onto her back. Catching at the coarse edges of the armored plates along her spine, he clambered up toward her head. She whirled with a startled shriek, but he clung fast. A youth spent among the Sil’ath climbing